"This..?!" Robin’s eyes flared wide, golden irises gleaming like molten suns as disbelief carved itself across his face.
His first assumption—that the rings would be filled with weapons, pearls, talismans, and other survival trinkets fit for those venturing into the perilous Valley of Specters—had been accurate... but only half so. What he saw now far surpassed his imagination.
"Forgive ..." the planet spirit’s voice carried an embarrassed lilt, almost sheepish. "It took an unthinkably long ti to learn how to place objects inside these spatial rings, but I never mastered the art of removing the ones already inside. You can disregard all the incidental items. They’re just clutter."
Disregard them?! Robin roared inwardly, his thoughts like thunder. There are four hundred thousand pearls and even a planetary-grade weapon among them!!
And yet, despite his instincts screaming otherwise, he did push them aside. Against his will, his focus shifted beyond them. A planetary-grade weapon alone was a treasure that could tip the balance of war between entire empires. Entire dynasties would bleed rivers of gold and blood to possess it. Yet compared to what truly filled these rings, it seed like a trifle, a re pebble before a mountain.
The true contents—what the Planet Spirit had chosen to stuff these rings with—were dazzling, irresistible, world-shaking.
"My heavens..." Robin whispered, his voice shaking with awe. "Just how many soul eralds are in here? A million? Two million?!"
Each erald was born from the death of a specter, crystallizing the soul units they once carried. So eralds contained a re three units, while others brimd with thousands. And here, gathered in heaps like rivers of light, was a fortune beyond asure, a quantity of soul eralds that could overturn the fate of ancient empires.
Woosh! Without hesitation, Robin seized another ring, his soul sense plunging into its depths.
Again—like the first—it overflowed with treasures: mid- to high-tier epic weapons, tens of thousands of pearls, scattered trinkets... and, most importantly, hundreds of thousands more eralds.
Then he reached for the next.
And the next.
And the next!
With each ring, Robin’s astonishnt deepened. Their owners had been unimaginably wealthy. After rifling through a re twenty rings, he had already saw many planetary-level weapons, mountains of gear, and riches vast enough to nourish and stabilize a Powerful planetary empire. This was no surprise—any who could afford the staggering entry fee into the Valley of Specters had to be among the wealthiest of the wealthy. Only empires, academies, or celestial clans sent their champions here.
And yet, even putting aside the weapons, pearls, and trinkets, one truth eclipsed all others: the eralds. So many eralds that his senses reeled. Robin’s tally after twenty rings already surpassed twenty million soul eralds! And still the pile of rings before him remained untouched, dozens more waiting.
And each one of those soul eralds has many units inside, can be several, can be hundreds or thousands!!
By the official, public valuation—where one soul unit equaled one energy pearl—the eralds alone translated into tens of millions, perhaps even hundreds of millions, of pearls. That was the fortune of a freshly crowned centennial planetary empire, sitting calmly in his hands.
But Robin knew better than to trust the market’s simple arithtic. The true worth of soul eralds, like elental energy pearls, fluctuated wildly with ti, place, and need. In the right sector, during the right crisis, one soul unit could sell for a thousand pearls or more. If he valued his newfound hoard by that asure, then...
He broke off, shaking his head violently, cutting the thought short. Numbers could no longer capture what sat before him. And besides, he had no intention of selling them.
The Planet Spirit’s voice broke the silence, carrying the faintest tinge of amusent. "I know the loss of twenty energy levels must have weighed heavily on you... but tell , do you find your compensation satisfactory?" She even allowed herself a rare smile, her stony features softening.
"The loss of twenty levels?" Robin laughed, his voice firm and alive with suppressed joy. "I’d trade a few tis over if this were the compensation!!" He clenched his fists tightly, struggling to keep the raw delight, the hunger, the fire from exploding across his face.
For Robin knew this was more than re wealth. Yes, he craved soul units to accelerate his own cultivation, to climb faster, higher, stronger.
But what lay before him was a treasure trove vast enough to do more than strengthen just one man. It was enough to raise armies, to shape destinies, to feed an empire’s rise.
And Robin already knew—clear as the stars above—exactly how he would wield it.
The Soul Masters of the Empire of True Beginning were many indeed—an ocean of scholars and practitioners scattered across the empire’s countless cities. Tens of thousands had chosen that path, encouraged by the empire’s culture and its policies: soul cultivation ant access to techniques, to engraved runes, to status, to a life of comfort and luxury. The empire had fostered that road deliberately, swelling the numbers of Soul Masters like crops nurtured in fertile soil.
And yet, for all their numbers, they were frail. They were researchers and artisans, not warriors. They had neither the sharp edge of battle nor the endurance to withstand carnage. None were suited to direct conflict. Even though Robin had once passed Theo a primitive wandering technique for soul-hunting, he had no real grasp of how it had been spread or applied among the masses. If they had used it to its fullest, he would surely have heard of results by now, of reports of breakthroughs.
But Robin’s thoughts turned in a different direction. If, instead of letting them all muddle about, he carefully chose the few—those of the highest talent, the rarest soul traits, those gifted with natural affinity—and placed these eralds in their hands...
A low chuckle slipped out of him. "Heh-heh... heh-heh..." His eyes glead with a strange, distant light, as though he were already seeing an empire rebuilt in his mind.
The Planet Soul stiffened slightly, unsettled by that look. "Is sothing wrong?" she asked, her voice cautious.
"Hm? No, no..." Robin quickly swept all the spatial rings together, tucking them into his own personal ring with haste, his expression regaining focus. His voice sharpened, filled with eager hunger. "Do you have more eralds?!"
"Plenty," the Planet Spirit said, her tone carrying both resignation and pride. "As you’ve seen, atop that tower, tens of thousands are slaughtered every single day. All of them beco specters. So linger, wandering for centuries until hunger withers them into eralds. Others are cut down by visiting hunters who ca to gather eralds but forget to collect their reward, or they just die after collecting man eralds. At tis, even the Syndicate itself slays the excess specters, to prevent the planet from choking on them and to make room for further slaughter, and they just leave the eralds their, they don’t care for them."
She placed a stone hand over her chest, her voice deepening. "In every case, I take them. I draw the eralds down into the earth, pull them into hidden chambers, and store them where no one can reach. Over the ages, I have amassed a mountain, a tide, a treasure beyond your ability to count. What I have given you now? It is not even a scratch on the surface of what I hold."
Her stony eyes shimred faintly as a grim smile touched her lips. "That cursed tower destroyed , but it also gave the wealth to create sothing new. Enough eralds to raise not rely an empire built on soul force... but a Behemoth forged entirely from it. Tell , Candidate—have I caught your interest now?"
Robin’s head dipped quickly, nodding several tis, the edges of his mouth curling into a grin he could not quite suppress. "Very much so. In fact, if I ever decide to set myself against that Syndicate... you can be sure I’ll start with you."
"I’ll be waiting, Candidate." The Planet Soul bowed her head slightly. Then, turning her gaze toward Morgana, she added softly, "Take care of her. She is a good girl."
"If she wishes it," Robin replied, shrugging, before leaning back against the cave wall once again. A smile tugged at his lips as he settled into thought.
"...Heh~" The Planet Spirit released a faint, weary laugh. She knew she had nothing more to offer, no further temptations to dangle, no power to change the girl’s fate. Slowly, quietly, she receded. She sank back into her silence, back into the stillness of her solitude, back to her endless pasti: gathering eralds, always gathering, wherever they could be found.
Robin did not look after her. He closed his eyes instead, sinking deep into thought, the weight of countless eralds pressing against his imagination. Already he was sketching plans, weaving strategies, deciding step by step how he would unleash this impossible fortune.
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